


The Miracle Man

by LostInDaydreaming



Series: Moments in-between [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), The author is new at this, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 07:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15836337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostInDaydreaming/pseuds/LostInDaydreaming
Summary: When the fight is done and the dust is still settling, Tony Stark takes stock of the situation and counts his blessings. In the process he finds out that some miracles are bigger than others.





	The Miracle Man

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys, this story is a couple of months old but is still my first story ever, it's just that I'm uploading it here now. So the original warnings apply here: first story, unbeta-ed, english is not the author's first language. Please procede with caution.  
> This little piece is set after Infinity War and supposedly after Avengers 4.

They end up in New York, at the new Avengers compound.

There’s not enough rooms for everyone, not nearly enough food, two or three people are still bleeding and the press, not to mention a couple of dozens between world leaders and international agencies, are loudly asking for answers, or at least a reassuring statement; but everyone is currently just too grateful – and honestly kinda shocked – for being alive to really pay attention to details.

They just wander in, the newest members of their group heading to the general direction Tony points them in, crashing on the nearest couch, chair or basically flat surface they can find. The empty halls fill in and soon, even among the cuts, the bruises and the occasional tear, it feels like an afternoon party in the suburbs. A very exhausted and on the verge of falling over party, admittedly, but Tony will take it.

His gaze travels across the scenery and it lands repeatedly on the same picture: a small group of two or three people held together by incredulous joy and quiet chatter.

It’s the same small miracle over and over, in the right corner by the window where Steve is talking to Barnes and Wilson, in the dark hallway that doesn’t manage to hide Nat and Bruce holding hands, over there on the sofa crawling with weird aliens, Quill and Gamora in the middle of them yet oblivious to anyone else, too busy staring at each other.

Some miracles feel slightly bigger than others, like little Wanda curled in the arms of her brother. She was so shocked when he appeared with all the others she couldn’t form coherent sentences for half an hour, sobbing so hard she couldn’t even stand. Not as hard as Clint when he got his family back, though.

_I may have fixed a thing, or two._

Tony thinks back to those words, and he would smirk if he still had the strength for it.

He surveys the scene for another moment, but it feels increasingly like he’s intruding or something, even if any of the others would deny it. After all, Rodhey’s fine, back in the lab fixing a couple of issues his prosthetics suffered in the quarrel, while Pepper and Happy are on their way from Manhattan. He just needs to find a quiet corner for himself, maybe a strong drink if he’s really lucky, and patiently wait for his turn of feeling fine again.

A tactical retreat takes him on the balcony, where he can hopefully get his act together and start making plans: there are people to call, arrangements to make, lives to rebuild, and someone has to take care of it all. It all seems just a little bit daunting at the moment, but who is Tony to complain after the incredible gifts the universe has granted them for once?

“Mr. Stark?”

Yes, some miracles feel bigger than others, even when they shouldn’t. Rationally Tony knows the life of a single kid doesn’t hold more meaning than the lives of half the universe, but right here and now, watching Peter Parker hesitantly approach him from inside the house, he thinks he has enough evidence of the contrary.

“Hey kid.” he greets him, and despite his bone-deep weariness he still gets rocked to the core by a wave of emotions almost as strong as the one in those early moments, when he could hold the boy and say “It’s ok, you’re ok” without having to lie.

“How are you holding up? Feeling any better?” asks Tony. Peter is quick to pull his usual not-so-convincing face of bravado, except it’s tinged with more than a hint of naked honesty when he says: “Oh, I’m fine. Just a little tired, you know?”.

Considering the recent events, Tony believes it must be the understatement of the century. He chooses not to push it though, instead accepts the reassurance and goes for an easy reply. “Mmh-mmh. Well, last time I checked, there were a dozen or so bedrooms in this place, so why don’t you go find one and lay down for a while? I mean, I don’t think we can stress your aunt out more than she already is, but just in case it’s probably best you don’t look dead on your feet when she sees you.”

In fact, according to the last phone call, May Parker should be here soon, and Tony figures she would choose to kill him more quickly if she found her nephew in at least a passable condition, instead of justifiably going for the route of a slow and painful retribution.

“Yeah, that’s probably…I mean, I will, sure.” Peter proceeds then to completely disregard his stammered statement, lingering there a bit unsurely, like a kid on his first crush working up the nerve to ask a girl out. And Tony, as usual, is going to defuse the situation with a quippy remark, to get them both out of potential embarrassment; but Peter finds his courage before he does, as usual, and faces him with head held high and honest eyes. “Mr. Stark…Tony. I-I just wanted to say, thank you.”

Tony makes an half aborted gesture with his hand. “Kid, you really don’t have to…”

“For everything you did, for bringing us back, you know? It was…and I wish I could have done more, you know, I tried to keep it together, I just…”

And this is the part where Tony really ought to stop him, because if the kid starts to apologize for real, after everything he’s been through, Tony is gonna lose it once and for all.

“Hey, hey kid, listen to me. Peter.” He manages to stop the tide of words, but before going on he puts a hand on the teenager’s shoulder and looks hard in his eyes, because this is one of the very few, very important things he’s going to say in his life. “Look, I know shit happened out there, ok?”

(“Language.” says Steve in his head; “Maybe this is not the best start for a soulful speech, honey.” says Pepper.)

“But I need you to know this: you did good. You did really good. In fact, I’ll even take back what I said about you going to space, because jumping on that ship might have been stupid but it was also one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

Peter is looking at him with a mixture of naked awe, embarrassment and disbelief, plus a million other emotions that cross clearly his too young and unguarded face, and Tony does his best not to crumble under that stare. He sighs deeply. “Listen kid, I didn’t always do right by you, no matter what you think. And I’m sorry for that. I also know that is not my place to be proud of you. But I am. Very much so.”

He almost regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. Even with people you love honesty is not always the best policy, not really, and he put already so much on this young man’s shoulders, and they are all still a little too raw to deal with this kind of emotions…

He shouldn’t be surprised when a second later Peter hugs him for all he’s worth, but he is. Despite that, and despite caution and better judgment, Tony starts to feel like he could let go of the pain and the crippling terror, even just a fraction. So he puts his arms around the boy and holds him close, tasting the promise that one day he could even manage to forgive himself, after all.

“So, are we there yet?” asks suddenly the little shit, and Tony recalls a car door, poor decisions and missed opportunities, so he hugs the kid tighter and just says: “Yeah, I think we are.”

When they separate Peter’s eyes are suspiciously bright, but they probably match Tony’s, so no one cares.

“Thanks Tony.” the kid says with a smile, still mistakenly assuming he’s the one who owes some gratitude. It’s gonna take a while, but Tony will change his mind about that. Now that he has the time, he will make sure of it. For now though he just slips into his old role and dismisses the young man with a wave. “Yeah, like I said, don’t mention it. Bed. Now. Don’t make me call Natasha.”

He watches him go, jokingly scared of the threat, still smiling like the portrait of happiness and innocence, this bright young hero with a heart so big he could mend the cracks in Tony’s soul without even trying. Something so good shouldn’t have a place in his life, in fact it almost didn’t, but today is a day of miracles and Tony will take as many as he can get.

Some time later he has rejoined the party, so to speak, except more than a party it looks like a bunch of exhausted people riding the adrenaline crash together. Some have left, some have arrived: when Pepper stepped out of the elevator it was like seeing her for the first time. She even had Happy in tow, so there were hugs, few meaningful words and plenty of tears.

Right now it’s another quiet moment in-between all those feelings, where Tony finds himself standing in the middle of the room, although nobody is paying him attention. There’s a glass in his hand but the drink is untouched. He looks around, and his eyes fall on a small couch where a sleeping boy sprawled on his belly takes up ungracefully all the space. Tony ends up staring without meaning to. He’s wondering if he could arrange Peter in a more comfortable position without waking him up when a voice intrudes to his right.

“Good job, Tony.”

It’s the first time during the whole evening he notices Strange; for all he knows, it’s entirely possible the wizard just appeared through the floor, courtesy of one of his weird, shiny round portals. Even the good doctor opted for civilian mode, having swapped his D&D cosplay for a simpler jogging suit. The effect is somewhat ruined by the flapping cloak on his back, which makes for a contrast that paints an uncanny, and honestly a bit comical, image.

Tony deflects the compliment with a single shake of his head. “Oh, I don’t get to take all the credit, as I’m sure you know.” It gets him wonder briefly though: when was the last time he saw Denvers? And he should probably check on Thor too…

“Don’t be so modest, my friend. It really doesn’t suit you.” Strange indulges in a little smirk, but something on Tony’s face sobers him up. The doctor gestures at the room then, at all the people gathered there. “Maybe you didn’t do it alone. But you started it, Tony, and you saw it through to the end. Regardless of who wielded the stones, you are the reason half of the universe is still alive tonight. None of this would have been possible without you.”

The words strike a chord, something Tony is still not ready to acknowledge. But it doesn’t matter, ‘cause they also make him think and realize something he should have seen a very long time ago, if he hadn’t been so tired and hurting and grieving.

So it’s not gratitude nor acceptance what transpires through his gaze when he looks at Stephen Strange and says: “You knew. What would happen.” He looks at Peter, a few feet away. He looks back at Strange. “What it would cost.” _And you let it happen anyway_ goes unsaid.

To his credit, Stephen doesn’t insult him by playing dumb. “There was no other way.”

“Yeah, so you’ve said.”

It’s probably a shitty move, using a man’s dying words against him, except that sometimes Tony can still feel the phantom sensation of Peter’s body crumbling through his fingers, so just this once he’s gonna take the petty vindication.

Strange, on his part, looks genuinely regretful, but there’s also a steel resolution behind his next words. “Tony – look at him. He’s alive. They all are. Is not that what matters?”

Tony makes a grimace, but he can’t deny the truth.

“Just sayin’, doc. Next time maybe warn a guy.”

He finally takes a swing from his glass, but strangely the alcohol feels most unsatisfactory. Strange gives him another little sideways smile. “Consider it my obligation, should the need arise again.”

“God, let’s hope it doesn’t.” sighs Tony.

Unprompted, the cloak chooses this moment to hop lightly down the wizard’s shoulders, hovering for a second between the two men.

“What is it?” asks his owner, slightly perplexed. The cloak waits for a beat, then turns its back on them and starts gliding through the air: it crosses the space to the couch, then gently drapes itself over the sleeping teenager.

More than a few seconds pass without a word.

“Uh.” says Stephen eventually.

“Oh, don’t take it too personal, Strange.” meanwhile Tony is making a real effort to keep his composure. “Trust me, it’s not you. The kid just tends to have that effect on people. And sentient objects, apparently.”

The doctor regards the adorable picture some more before shrugging and commenting: “Well, it knows the way home. It’ll come back when it’s ready.” He turns to Tony again. “It’s time for me to go, too. I have the unpleasant feeling I left Wong alone for too long.”

“Let me guess. Realities to save, parallel dimensions to guard?”

“Something to that effect.”  
“All right. At least let me offer you a drink before you go.”  
Tony offers him his glass, even if the ice is almost completely melted. Stephen looks at the cocktail, then at Tony again, then accepts the offering for what it is.

“Thank you Stark.” He raises the glass to the other man before taking a sip, then starts going back to wherever he came from.

“And don’t forget the dress code for the wedding.” calls Tony after him. “No Halloween masks, no superhero costumes, no Hogwarts robes. Pepper was very specific about it.”

Strange turns around one last time with one last smirk. “I shall do my best.”

Then he’s gone, and Tony is alone again with his thoughts, not all of which are entirely pleasant. Because not two minutes ago Strange just spelled it out for him: at one point his life was bargained against half the lives in the universe. The Sorcerer Supreme said it was worth it. Tony is still not convinced it can be true. Either way, he doesn’t think he knows how to live with that burden on his soul.

He’s mercifully distracted by the love of his life, who’s walking towards him with a light smile. He knows her too well though, so he immediately picks up on the little warning hidden in the tight corner of her lips; thankfully she knows him just as well, ‘cause she is quick to reassure him: “Hey, everything’s fine.” She puts a hand on his arm and leans a little bit closer. “It’s just…she’s here.”

And sure enough, when Tony looks up May Parker is standing on the threshold on the other side of the room.

Pepper gives him a light pat of encouragement, and Tony steals a quick caress before heading for the new guest, who seems all in all fairly composed, if taken a little aback by the talking tree. As he approaches her, Tony can see that in truth the woman looks like she went through hell: she’s too pale, which makes the bags under her eyes stand out even darker; also she’s trembling more than a little, clutching spasmodically the handbag that totally doesn’t match her outfit. When she sees him, she clearly makes a conscious effort not to run straight to him.

Tony doesn’t waste time with greetings; he owes way too much to this woman, at least this time he’ll give her just what she needs.

“He’s fine. May, he’s right there.” are the first words out of his mouth, the only words he could ever say, really. May Parker looks at him like she can’t quite believe him, so he gently guides her through the crowd, right where she can see her nephew, who still hasn’t stirred at all.

“He’s sleeping.” adds Tony unnecessarily. “But he’s fine May, I promise you.”

Aunt May doesn’t make an easy comeback, specifying in detail how much Tony Stark’s promises are worth to her. For the longest time she doesn’t say anything, just stands there staring, as if she’s witnessing a miracle that will dissolve if she dares to breathe too hard. Tony starts squirming, torn between the urge to disappear before the inevitable explosion, the will to let her get this moment alone, and the realization that he can’t just stand this woman up without a word.

In the end, probably when she’s convinced herself this is not a vivid fever dream, May turns slowly to him, pinning him with a glare that would make conquering demigods and megalomaniac aliens run for cover. Tony has built a dreadful anticipation of this exact moment for the past few months; to say that he’s ready for it would be an exaggeration, but if nothing else he’s quite confident at least some of the worst things she can throw at him he already thought them by himself, multiple times. After all, self-deprecation is an art he excels at. He already decided he’s not gonna shy away if she starts throwing punches, either.

It’s almost comical, in a sense, the way he tenses up before May opens her mouth and says: “Thank you.”

Confusion makes hard for Tony to process the words; it also makes him fail to elaborate an appropriate response. The moment he tries to force anything out she stops him holding up a hand. “I’m not saying it was ok. None of this – none of _this_ – is even remotely ok.” She makes a vague gesture in saying that, presumably comprehending superpowers, technological armors, Tony, Thanos, possibly everything in between the moment he showed up on her doorstep with some bullshit line about an internship and right now.

“And we will talk. At length.” aunt May goes on “about blame, and responsibilities. But… you brought him back to me, Tony. So, at least for now, I’m gonna say thank you.”

The woman whom Tony once dismissed as ‘aunt hottie’ is a monument of grief, strength and dignity; and right now Tony begins to understand for the first time why Peter is the way he is, where he got all of his amazing qualities (none of which includes climbing on walls) from.

The genius, billionaire, Earth’s legendary hero feels completely humbled by this middle class, middle aged woman from Queens, New York.

“I am sorry.” he offers. And aren’t those three funny little words? We are taught to say them, encouraged even to use them, whenever we wrong someone. And yet, when we need them the most, in the instances that truly matter, they are all but meaningless. Because ‘I am sorry’ is not enough, in truth doesn’t even begin to amend our faults, not to mention alleviate our guilt. But sometimes we have to say them anyway, especially when there’s nothing else we can say. Because sometimes what matters are not the words, what matters is the sentiment behind them, if it’s honest.

That’s why Tony says it again: “I’m so sorry May.”

She visibly loosens up then, something soft entering her eyes, something that’s not quite pity, more like a gentle understanding. “I know.” it’s all she tells him.

Next moment she’s left him, gone to kneel near her nephew, trying to rouse him gently shaking him by his shoulder. Tony watches Peter taking his sweet time to shake off the heavy sleep of the youth; he sees the moment of confusion on his face, followed by recognition. What comes next was never meant for him, and is something he has no part into, so he lets the small family have its privacy and turns around aimlessly in search of something he can pretend to be doing.

Of course it would be Pepper coming to his rescue, saving him from standing there like a lost idiot. It’s really not a surprise, ‘cause she’s been doing it for more than ten years now.

“So, how did it go?” she asks him, even if the smile in her voice tells that she already knows the answer.

“Good, you know? Surprisingly good. I think it’s possible she considered not to murder me before the ceremony her wedding present to you.”

“Like you’re gonna get out of it that easily.”

There’s some weight added behind the playful tease. Tony knows it, but he’s not about to make more promises that he can’t keep. He just holds her close, feels the comforting warmth of her body, the sweet smell of her hair, the softness of her skin.

 “I love you.” he whispers in her ear. “I love you too.” she murmurs back, and it’s the only promise that counts.

After a moment Pepper adds: “You did good Tony. You did good.”

And because she’s usually right about everything, it must be true. Given everything he’s witnessed and heard today, Tony’s even gotten to the point where he feels like he believes it, at least a little bit.

After all, on a day like this, even that sort of miracle can happen.


End file.
